Samantha Anderson: The impact of a failed Cochlear Implant operation (BSL)

When I agreed to have a cochlear implant, I was told: this could change your life. The consultant said if all went well I would have better access to sound, feel less isolated and eventually feel more at ease in the hearing world.

The risks were mentioned, of course, but very lightly — as if failure was a remote possibility that I didn’t need to worry about. But unfortunately sometimes cochlear implants fail. And when they do, the impact goes far beyond hearing.

I was born hearing and became deaf due to a sudden illness in my teens. Because of this, I’ve always spoken and relied on my residual hearing and lipreading skills to get by. As my hearing deteriorated to a profound level I was offered a cochlear implant consultation and decided to go ahead with it.

But unfortunately my operation did not deliver what was promised. Due to an unexpected issue with my auditory nerve, the implant did not work as expected and suddenly I found myself living with constant dizziness, pain, distortion, and loss.

Nothing sounded like it was supposed to. It was like noise without sense. I also felt ear pressure, discomfort and exhaustion. It seemed that the one thing that was supposed to help me reconnect to the world instead pulled me further away from it.

What no one really prepares you for is the emotional fallout when things don’t go as planned.

There is grief, first and foremost. I felt grief for the hoped-for future that disappeared overnight. I had imagined a life where conversations flowed easily with less effort and fewer explanations. I imagined relief and probably imagined feeling ‘hearing’ again like I used to.

So when the implant failed, that imagined life vanished, and I was left mourning something that never truly existed. It was like it was all a dream and I had just woken up.

There is also guilt. I felt as though there was a voice that said You should be grateful you were given the chance. It made me feel as if disappointment is ingratitude and this is how the medical community made me feel too.

When an implant fails, it can feel as though your body has let everyone down — surgeons, audiologists, family members who pinned their hopes on this outcome too. Friends were excited for me. And I felt as though I had let everyone down.

My family were supportive but didn’t really understand. As hearing aids no longer worked well for me, I felt as though a cochlear implant was the ‘end of the line’ for me. I was pinning my hopes on it giving me some sound back again. So it hit me harder than I thought it would and this surprised my family too.

Physically, living with a failed implant is very challenging. I have ongoing pain, dizziness, headaches and nerve sensations that are hard to describe.

I also feel confused about my identity now too.

As someone who has lived with hearing aids and having some sound for a long time, the implant was meant to be a way to gain more confidence in my voice and in my listening skills. So when it didn’t work I feel like I’m stuck in limbo land. I’ll never be hearing but I’m not culturally completely deaf either.

It seems that success stories linked to cochlear implants are everywhere. They are celebrated and used to justify the procedure itself. Failure stories are often hidden completely or reframed as individual anomalies.

So when an implant fails, you can feel invisible — like your experience disrupts a narrative people are invested in protecting.

But there must be others out there like me too? Our stories surely are important ones to read about.

Because a failed cochlear implant operation is not just a medical event; it is a life event. It affects everything from your confidence, mental health, relationships, and trust in medical systems. It changes how you relate to your body. It can make you fearful of further interventions, and wary of hope itself.

I’m not sure what is next for me after this, in terms of accessing sound. I have one ear that could still be implanted on – if I decide to go down that route, but after experiencing what I have with my implanted side, I’m not sure it’s worth trying anymore.

I wanted to make people aware that risks do exist and implants are not 100% guaranteed to work, as I sadly discovered for myself.

By Samantha Anderson.

Image courtesy of Pexels.